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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871042">always and forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_along/pseuds/all_along'>all_along</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I just think she's neat, Slow Build, Swear warning, complete !!, gender neutral reader, i didn't like the ending so i'm changing it lol, no beta we die like wanda's dignity, no smut because i said so, not a y/n thing, pls leave comments, spoilers for all the episodes, the finale hurt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:55:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,471</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871042</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_along/pseuds/all_along</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The town has a different air to it this morning, almost like something isn’t right. You shake the thought from your head, reminding yourself that you live in Westview and nothing is out of place here.</p><p>Right as you get to what seems to be Dottie’s house you manage to crash right into someone.</p><p>“Oh, we really must stop bumping into each other!”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agatha Harkness/Reader, Agnes (WandaVision)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>168</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Neighbours - 1950s</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is gonna suck and you're gonna read all of it /j</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You don’t know much about Agnes. Nobody does, but that’s not the point. You feel like you </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> know far more about her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>know far more about her. And yet, nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was some vague familiarity between the two of you, but you weren’t surprised. Everyone knew everyone in Westview, even if nobody had ever met.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was this train of thought that had somehow led you to crash right into the woman herself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh! I- I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, dear, it’s quite alright,” she says, brushing herself off with one hand and readjusting the pot plant tucked under her arm with the other. She looks like she’s about to start talking before she stops herself, looking at you with confusion. “I- I’m Agnes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. “Wait, that’s not- I just meant that I’ve heard someone-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, it’s fine, dear. How about you tell me your name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, I-” You pause. What was your name, again? It seemed like everyone already knew you, there was no reason for introduction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Agnes nods and shakes your hand nonetheless, which is strange, but you pass it off as her just being polite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’d better get going,” she says, as a man rushes down the pavement past the two of you. “Can’t introduce myself to the neighbours if there aren’t any left to talk to.” She gives you a short smile then hurries up the driveway that the man just left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You shake your head and continue walking. That was strange, sure, but it can't have been as strange as you’re making it out to be. You should be more concerned with the fact that you have no idea where you’re going, or that you don’t know how you even got on to this street, or that you’re now standing outside of your house which you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t that close to Agnes’. Nevertheless, you walk inside and go about your usual business.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow, your usual business quickly turns into you gardening, which you can’t remember ever doing, despite the rows of lovely roses out the front of your house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fancy running into you here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You jump, turning around and finding yourself face-to-face with the woman you were sure had just been inside Wanda’s house. Who’s Wanda? You aren’t sure, but you definitely know that that’s her house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh- hi. Weren’t you just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to come in and meet our new neighbour? I’m sure Wanda would just love you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without any further warning, Agnes puts her free hand - the other is now occupied by some magazine you’ve never heard of - on your shoulder and guides you up their driveway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of - well, mostly just talking and setting up candles, but still, a blur. As you’re about to leave Agnes appears by your shoulder. “Would you like me to walk you home, dear?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, I only live down the road.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perfect. Thank you for having us over, Wanda.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for all your help!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two smile at each other and then Agnes guides you out the door and down the road.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really, I appreciate it, but I think I can make my own way home.” You try to duck away from her grip on your shoulder to no avail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense, dear, you never know who could be out there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You don’t pay much attention to her words, because it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Westview</span>
  </em>
  <span>, nothing bad ever happens here. At least, not to your recollection. Not that you can recollect much of your life before today, but you know you’ve always been here and you have no reason to leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, if that’s the case, shouldn’t I be the one walking you home? You live further away from her than I do, in any case.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, only marginally. And besides, I can take care of myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two of you make your way up your driveway and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> lets go of your shoulder. “You do realise the sun’s still out, right? Nobody was going to sneak up on me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can never be too careful,” Agnes says, her face on the edge of looking grave. “I’m sure there are plenty of unsavoury characters out there.” She smiles briefly at you and then turns away, walking down the road to her house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, thank you anyway!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not a problem, dear!” She waves at you hesitantly, and you wave back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You do only live across and one house down the road, so you can hear the laughter and pots and pans clattering in Wanda’s house. Eventually, your curiosity gets the better of you and you wander over into her backyard, letting yourself in. You’re sure Wanda wouldn’t mind, or at the very least wouldn’t notice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You walk as quietly around to her back door as possible. There’s another crash in the kitchen, and you can hear some muffled talking, but any speculations are quickly pushed aside as you watch Agnes get rather forcfully guided outside, the door quickly closing behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolls her eyes and starts muttering to herself before she sees you and immediately stops. “Hello there, dear. What might you be doing out here at an hour like this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s only-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> what I’ve forgotten. Excuse me, hun, I’ve gotta go grab something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- what-?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lovely talking to you, though,” she says, brushing past you. “See you around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You shake your head at her as she leaves, confused, before walking to the back door and holding your hand on the handle. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>open the door, but your curiosity is once again getting the best of you and you open it slowly, almost deliberately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You stick your head in the door, but you can’t see much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wanda? Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next thing you know, you’re waking up in your room again. It’s strange, you think to yourself briefly, but any thought of that immediately leaves your mind as you remember there are chores to be done and breakfast to be had.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Distinct Lack Of Understanding - 1960s</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't really like the pacing of this but o h w e l l</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s dark. Leaves are crunching underfoot as someone - two someones - pull her along. She’s pleading with them, stumbling and trying desperately not to reach the end of their little journey.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But reach it they must.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The view is limited, but some blue light appears to be binding her arms behind her back, behind the beam jutting out from the ground.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“Agatha Harkness. Are you a witch?”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a neighbourhood meeting over at Dottie’s. Who is Dottie?, you might ask. You can’t answer that question, because you don’t entirely know yourself, but you’re certain you’re going to her house because it says so on your calendar, underlined in red pen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The red seems a little out of place in what seems to be a world so black and white, but you don’t have the time nor the energy to question it. Instead, you get changed into something nice - you have a feeling Dottie is someone you need to impress - and walk out the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The town has a different air to it this morning, almost like something isn’t right. You shake the thought from your head, reminding yourself that you live in Westview and nothing is out of place here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right as you get to what seems to be Dottie’s house you manage to crash right into someone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we really must stop bumping into each other!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your ears must be playing tricks on you, because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>swear</span>
  </em>
  <span> you just heard a group of people laughing even though nobody else is paying you any mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Truly,” you respond, shaking your head and smiling. “Wanda, lovely to see you again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Likewise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Agnes takes your arm in hers as she’s done with Wanda and the three of you walk up the driveway and into the backyard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You make it into Dottie’s backyard and sit down on the chairs placed in a circle. It’s terribly warm for it being mid-fall, but nobody else seems to notice so you push the thought aside. Although come to think of it, you can’t remember ever seeing rain in the time you’ve been here. You can’t remember most of the time you’ve been here, but still.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before you know it, the meeting appears to be over, though you didn’t actually hear anyone speak, and Agnes begins to lead you away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, but- what about Wanda?"<br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She ignores you, continuing to walk down the road with you in tow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Agnes? Hello?” You click your fingers in a half-hearted attempt to gain her attention, but nothing. “Agnes? Agatha?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This gains her attention. You’re not entirely sure why that name came to mind, because you certainly don’t remember hearing it in your lifetime, but it seems to work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stops walking and turns to look at you, her hand twitching as she mumbled something incoherent under her breath. “What did you just call me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But you’ve already forgotten what you just said. “What? Agnes? I don’t think I’ve ever called you anything else before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Agnes laughs. It sounds forced. “Must’ve misheard you, dear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” You nod, but it feels off. Just like most of today, you suppose, walking up your driveway and unlocking your door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, are you excited for the talent show this afternoon?” Agnes lets herself in, walking towards your living room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The what?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Weren’t you paying attention, dear? That’s what the whole meeting was about, organising the talent show. You even repeated her saying…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Her what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For the- ‘for the children’? You- you actually don’t remember.” She says this more as a statement than a question. She also seems flustered, or worked up, which is very out-of-character. “Can you remember anything that happened today?”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that you think of it, you really can’t. The events of the day mustn’t have been that memorable, if all you can remember is the fact that you woke up and went to the neighbourhood meeting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You shake your head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then you stand up. “Actually, I do remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing,” you mutter, walking towards your kitchen. You turn to your calendar, with the words ‘Meeting, Dottie’ written and underlined. There isn’t anything off or strange about it. “Huh. Maybe I don’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Agnes smiles at you hesitantly. “Well then, I’d better get going. Don’t want Ralph to think I’m getting up to anything… less than desirable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You roll your eyes for a reason you can’t quite make out and she waves before walking out the now-open door. “See you tonight, then, Agnes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” she calls out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A talent show. You’ve got nothing prepared, but you assume that it’s not mandatory to perform. It is only a fundraiser, after all, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> a paying audience member.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You briefly glance at the clock, feeling absolutely exhausted from today’s little endeavour, and decide that there’s enough time for you to take a quick nap so you’re awake and paying attention this afternoon. If there isn’t a reason for you to not pay attention (like this morning, regrettably) then you should be perfectly fine for the performance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dread. And fear. The air feels thicker and deadlier than it ever has been or ever should be.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know nothing of these crimes, I- I swear it, I-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>Enough</span>
  <em>
    <span>” - that word alone silences the shaking figure - “deception.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I- I did not break your rules. They simply bent to my power.” Even without seeing her, the energy that comes from her words is enough to know that she’s smirking.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The women surrounding her begin to chant, which sends her immediately back into a panicked state.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“</span>
    </em>
    <em>
      <span>No, I- I cannot control it- If only you would </span>
    </em>
    <span>teach</span>
    <em>
      <span> me.</span>
    </em>
    <em>
      <span>”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You wake up, feeling as though you should be terrified but aren’t. It’s enough to distract you from the fact that the birds have stopped chirping and the ink on the calendar has changed back to red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You re-do your hair, because it’s since slipped out of its original shape, and look at the clock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dammit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You open your front door and run down the steps, forgetting to lock the door behind you. You’re late - very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> late.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time you arrive at the talent show Wanda and the man you assume to be her husband are putting on some kind of comedy act. At least, you certainly hope that it’s a comedy act, otherwise whatever they’re doing is going very poorly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You seat yourself next to Agnes, who seemingly gets pulled out of a trance the second you sit down. “Hello, dear, welcome to the show.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You tilt your head to the side, trying to figure out they pulled a woman out of an empty closet. “Yes, thank you.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sleepwalking - 1970s</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is short but it took for-fucking-ever to write so it's good enough</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You aren’t able to sleep. Not because you as a human being are physically incapable of doing so, but because you feel off and you can’t pinpoint why.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It could be the fact that you’ve been getting dreams that aren’t yours, or that the world seems a tad more colorful than usual, or maybe that you used to feel sad and exhausted whenever you were alone and now you don’t. Either way, you decide that you need to do something to distract yourself from your thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That distraction happens to come in the form of your neighbour Agnes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A quick glance at your clock tells you that it’s 12.17 am. Why she would be knocking on your door at this time escapes you, but you’re glad for the distraction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You open the door. “Agnes! What are you doing out here so late?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t give you an explanation besides a brief grin and an absent wave of her hand. Agnes makes her way to your living room and sits down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you- do you remember anything that happened yesterday?” she says quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do,” you respond, confused as to why she would ask that. “Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no reason,” she says. “Tea?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn’t I be the one offering you that?” you say, moving to the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And yet you haven’t.” She smiles apologetically, although what she would be apologizing for is beyond you. You narrow your eyes suspiciously, because she’s being awfully suspicious, not to mention it’s just past midnight and she’s as awake as if it were midday.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Agnes stands and follows you to the kitchen, out of sympathy or just because she wants to is beyond you, but you find you don’t particularly mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, what might you be doing out here so late.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think you mean early. And I just… needed to clear my head, is all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In my house?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had the suspicion you’d be awake. And I was right, wasn’t I?” You can’t exactly argue with that logic, you suppose. “Now, how about that tea?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You can’t say you dislike her company, even if it does seem a little strange. But you guess Westview </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> a little stranger than you’d expect.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She distracts you, but it’s a welcome distraction. Agnes spends hours talking about trivial things like clothes and yesterday’s show and the likes, and you only contribute when she looks at you expectantly with a distant smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You can feel yourself drifting off around the 3 am mark, and Agnes seems to take notice. “Oh, silly me, I must be keeping you and the partner awake with all my talking. I’ll see you later?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, I’m- there is no partner,” you say with a laugh. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> alone.” She laughs with you, but it’s stiff and awkward. “Not- not in a bad way, I assure you, I just live alone. And it’s great.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She makes an ‘Ah, sure,’ face, and nods, sipping on what must be her fourth cup of tea tonight. “Well, it’s awfully early, I should really let you rest. I’m getting rather tired myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then stay the night,” you hear yourself say. “I must have at least eighty spare bedrooms at this point, I barely take up any space in this house.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but I wouldn’t want to intrude, dear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t be intruding, honestly.” You stand with her and begin to guide her up the stairs, against your better judgement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I- if you insist.” Agnes doesn’t seem to know quite how she feels about this, and you take that to mean it’s completely fine to continue dragging her around your house.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Music is playing from an old record player in the corner of the room. She stands next to a stranger, or a friend, or neither.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I will hold your hand until there’s nothing left to hold.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She smiles.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I will wish for you until I run out of wishes.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The stranger smiles.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And my heart will love yours until the day it stops beating.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s a crash from a room higher in the house, but nobody reacts.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I will love you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There are shouts, and the sound of men running down the stairs.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Always and forever.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>You smile. And then the fire begins to spread.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When you walk downstairs, Agnes is already there, biting her thumbnail as she stares blankly at the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Agnes? Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, g’morning, hun, how’d you sleep?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” You narrow your eyes at her, and she continues to look at the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s great, just… great. Did you hear Wanda’s having a baby?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- what?” You walk over to her and attempt to follow her gaze, but you can’t see anything out of the ordinary. “How did you- are you sure you slept okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I slept okay, how else would I be standing here?” She laughs a little too loudly for a little too long, and then immediately moves to your front door. She flattens down her hair, looking at her reflection in the window by the door. “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you. Bye!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Agnes slams the door behind her before you can say anything.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. All Again - 1950s-80s</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Agatha Harkness didn’t want this. She didn’t want this- this <em>distraction </em>that will throw off all her plans - and she’s certain that you’ll throw off her plans - that she’s been working on for the past who knows how long. The Scarlet Witch - the Scarlet <em> fucking </em> Witch - is completely at her disposal and here she is, staying the night at your house.</p><p> </p><p>It’s not that she doesn’t want to be here. Under literally any other circumstance, she would be here every waking minute. It’s just that this is the exact thing she was counting on <em>not </em>to happen.</p><p> </p><p>She guesses it’s only natural you’re here. And it’s certainly not her fault, and it’s out of her control, and, and, and.</p><p> </p><p>She needs to stop making excuses. This <em>is </em>her fault, more or less, and she needs to fix it.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>When Agatha saw you here, to say she was surprised was a <em> bit </em>of an understatement. You in all your 1950s clothes and hair and your <em>voice </em>and she just… didn’t expect it.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! I- I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, I-”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, dear, it’s quite alright.” She went through about eight different emotions and had three different responses planned in the few seconds before she went on with “I- I’m Agnes.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p><em> No, </em> she thought, <em> you don’t</em>.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>She had to be very careful with how she went about doing things from then on. Giving you your memories back <em>too </em>soon would just make Wanda suspicious and get her to either throw you out or take down this weird spell thing entirely.</p><p> </p><p>The easiest way, Agatha thought, would be to gradually introduce your past through your dreams. This plan quickly went south as she realised you couldn’t actually remember anything, even if it only happened a second ago.</p><p> </p><p>“What did you just call me?”</p><p> </p><p>“What? Agnes? I don’t think I’ve ever called you anything else before.”</p><p> </p><p>She forced a laugh. “Must’ve misheard you, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>The next best option would be to loosen Wanda’s grip over you. She may or may not have slipped a potion - she hated the description, because it really wasn’t, but it was close enough - into your drink at Dottie’s most recent exhausting meeting. Although you probably wouldn’t have objected to just being given the potion straight up if it meant distracting you from her droning voice.</p><p> </p><p>Agatha figured she may as well check on you, and she sensed that you would still be awake. Sensed is more of a sugarcoated version of "specifically made so that you didn’t sleep so she could check on you without being noticed by anyone else".</p><p> </p><p>What she didn’t count on was you letting her stay over for the night, which completely fucked up her whole plan.</p><p> </p><p>“So, what might you be doing out here so late?”</p><p> </p><p>“I think you mean early. And I just… needed to clear my head, is all.”</p><p> </p><p>“In my house?”</p><p> </p><p>She smiled. Her best course of action would be to distract you and talk about everything she knew you didn’t care about.</p><p> </p><p>“I had the suspicion you’d be awake. And I was right, wasn’t I? Now, how about that tea?”</p><p> </p><p>Agatha-as-Agnes began talking about this stunning outfit she’d seen the day before - the outfit that certainly didn’t exist, but you didn’t need to know that.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>You walked up the road, trying to ignore the seemingly-amplified screaming of the babies crying in Wanda’s house. Agnes is walking down the road towards you - or, more likely, towards Wanda’s house.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, hiya hun, how are you?”</p><p> </p><p>You’re certain her hair was straight yesterday.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m good, how’re you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m doing just-”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a crash from inside the house, and you both look at each other. “Guess we should go help them?” You phrase this as a question, although you know that you’re both going to help anyway.</p><p> </p><p>She opens the door, grinning as if there aren’t two screaming children ten feet away from her. “Hey, kids!”</p><p> </p><p>You stand awkwardly behind her, trying your best to match her energy and failing miserably. There’s a man standing with his face covered by a pillow, the man who you assume is Wanda’s husband. If you recall correctly, Agnes said his name was Vision. Weird name, but you guess you can’t judge. Once Agnes moves out of the way you walk over to their cribs and look at the babies. You never did like children.</p><p> </p><p>“-Actually, y’know what, maybe we’d better not,” Vision says, grabbing your shoulders and moving you away from the cribs.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” is all you manage to get out because you <em>really </em>don’t know what’s going on.</p><p> </p><p>“I- um…” Agnes looks at Wanda, shifting her weight and tapping her hands together. “That’s… do- do you want me to take that again?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry?” Wanda tilts her head to the side, looking from Vision to Agnes to you.</p><p> </p><p>“You want <em> me </em> to hold the babies?” Agnes slings her bag over her shoulder. “Should we just take it from the top?”</p><p> </p><p>They all begin to laugh as if this was some joke everyone <em>except </em>you was in on.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, no, don’t be silly. Vision, let’s let Agnes give it a try,” Wanda says. She smiles and walks over to Vision, leading him to the other side of the room.</p><p> </p><p>Agnes starts to spray some weird perfume stuff over the twins. “Oh- lavender! It’s supposed to have a calming effect?” You take her by the shoulders and drag her to the kitchen.</p><p><br/>“What was that?”</p><p> </p><p>“What was what, dear?” she says, opening a kitchen cabinet and rummaging through the glasses.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, let’s <em>take it from the top</em>,” you say, waving your hands around. You swear she rolls her eyes at you.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t- what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Agnes?” Vision calls from the living room.</p><p> </p><p>“Hm? Oh, I’m looking for your dark liquor.” She doesn’t seem to notice that she’s making Vision - and you - even more concerned than you already were. “Not for <em>me</em>, for the <em>twins</em>! What kinda babysitter do you think I <em> am</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>You smile. She never ended up answering your question.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i'm gonna be busy this weekend so i figured i'd get this chapter out early</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Town Square Scare - 1990s/2000s</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>very short chapter but we have some foreshadowing so here ya go</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You roll your eyes and smooth out the ruffles on your costume. It’s a witch costume, it’s old, and it’s certainly not your first choice, but you were short on time and this is the first thing you found. Although you can’t remember ever owning it. That’s not the point, though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You can hear the sounds of children outside, so you set up a bowl of candy on your front porch and then proceed to walk out the door, your keys stashed away in one of your many hidden pockets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If you remember correctly - and your memory seemed to be serving you well as of late - you had made plans to meet up with Wanda and her boys to take them trick or treating. However, you also remembered agreeing to talk to Agnes, although you had no actual knowledge of actually talking to her about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wanda, who’s this?”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a man standing next to her and the twins. One that is decidedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> her husband.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this is just my brother, Pietro. He stopped by last night and now he’s helping take care of the boys while Vision’s busy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you, Pietro. I’m Wanda’s neighbour.” You smile at him. “So, uh- what </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> Vision doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She ignores your question and begins to walk away with the boys. You follow with Pietro. “Wanda? You okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you take the boys to this house?” Wanda says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You nod, hesitantly following the twins up the nearest driveway. You can hear Pietro and Wanda whispering to each other, and you tense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I have an idea.” You turn around sharply to the sound of Pietro’s voice. It’s louder than you expected. “Why don’t you run along to find some other houses we can… </span>
  <em>
    <span>visit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He winks at the boys, who appear beside you as if summoned by some external force.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s a great idea. Make sure not to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> lost,” Wanda says, smiling. It looks less forced than what her tone suggests.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After much insisting that the twins will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Pietro is </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfectly reliable</span>
  </em>
  <span> (to some extent), you finally set off to find some houses further away that don’t look sketchy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In doing so, you see something - some</span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> - floating up above all the other houses. Naturally, and because nobody else seems to notice, you decide to follow it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon closer inspection it does seem to be a person, probably in a costume, judging by the cape and red face paint. You draw the conclusion that it’s probably some Halloween stunt, and that the figure is being held up by wires, but you continue to follow them nonetheless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The figure keeps moving until you get to the edge of town, turning on to Ellis Avenue. There’s a car at the end of the road, and you realise you shouldn’t be here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are a few trees around you, so you rush over to one of them and hide, cautiously looking out at the two figures.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You can’t make out their words, but from what you can tell it’s a man and a woman. For a few seconds, it’s silent, before you hear the woman yell. “Dead. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your heart drops.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s Agnes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You slam your door closed behind you, sinking to the ground. Something had happened there, something you didn’t quite understand, and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to. There was someone flying - </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> flying, not just being suspended in the air - Agnes was there for some reason, barely moving, and yelling. You’d never seen her yell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>All is lost.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your hands are shaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“Hey- hey, are you okay?”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“I did it.”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“Did what?”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“I found her.”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“Holy shit- how did you-?”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“I’m not sure. But she’s here. In the country, at least.”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>“We’ve done it. We- we’ve made it.”</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>She smiles as you take her in your arms.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Play Your Cards - 2010s</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You wake up feeling worse than usual. Absolutely exhausted, sure, but you have a sense of… dread, almost. Like something isn’t quite right.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Your memories of last night seem faint, leading up to seeing Agnes in her car talking to the man who you’re sure was flying through the air. You aren’t even sure Agnes </span>
  <em>
    <span>owns</span>
  </em>
  <span> a car, but at this point, you wouldn’t put it past her. Whatever had </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> happened last night is beyond you, so you decide to investigate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And by investigate, you mean go and talk to the first person you see when you walk outside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This person happens to be Agnes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey- Agnes, hi-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, hello, dear! Lovely weather we’re having, I must say. Wouldn’t you agree?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, definitely, but I actually wanted to talk to you about something that happened-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just on my way to Wanda’s house to get something, would you wanna tag along?” She smiles at you, taking your arm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, sure, but-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect.” Agnes winks at you, and you find yourself getting dragged down the road to Wanda’s house. It strikes you as odd that she was walking past your house when she lives on the complete opposite side of the road, but you decide to ignore that fact and continue with her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Upon arriving at Wanda’s house, your mood instantly drops.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s like the house is radiating sadness - which is silly, of course, because houses don’t have emotions.” You laugh, shaking your head. “I- I think.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in!” The door opens without anyone behind it, as if by magic. Agnes doesn’t comment on it, so you don’t either. “I’d get up but I just don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You tilt your head to the side in confusion, following Agnes inside, past Wanda’s couch. You notice the twins are sitting next to her. You don’t comment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The house looks different to when you saw it last. All the furniture has been moved around, and you swear there was a different fireplace before. You pass it off as your bad memory - it hadn’t been entirely top-notch as of late.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before you realise anything’s happened, you’re getting ushered out the door by Agnes and the boys have brushed past you without you realising.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh- did you- did you end up getting that thing you were after?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean, hun?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You- didn’t you go to get something from Wanda’s?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, I have everything I need right here,” Agnes says, smiling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know if Agnes </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> ended up getting that thing she wanted, but, I mean, it’s not really any of my business, right?” You falter. “Right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you wanna come inside for some tea? I’m just babysitting the boys while Wanda collects herself, and I could probably use some actual company.” She laughs, almost mechanically, and you feel inclined to replicate it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, I’m quite busy today, I couldn’t possibly get any more distracted.” This is a lie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on</span>
  </em>
  <span>, honey, we both know you have nothing better to do,” she says, taking your arm and dragging you inside. “Besides, we both know you’re lying.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You find yourself sitting at her table, half an hour later, with a half-empty cup of tea in your hands, staring at the wall opposite you. Agnes had spent almost the entire time you’ve been inside talking to you about trivial things that you didn’t really listen to or care about until there was a crash coming from the living room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll just be a moment,” she’d said, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, as she walked out to the twins.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had been 10 minutes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was not back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You still hadn’t found time in between her incessant gossiping to ask her about what happened last night. You aren’t sure there’s going to be another opportunity to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A scream comes up from what you assume is the basement. Seeing as Agnes has just gone to check on the twins, isn’t back yet, and you can’t hear either of them, you assume the worst.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You stand, walking to the living room to find a deserted plate and some kid’s cartoon quietly playing on the TV. The boys aren’t here. You continue around the lower floor, not finding any doors that would lead to the hypothetical basement until you get to a hallway and see the outline of a door under the wallpaper. Perfect.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You open it - after a time longer than you’d like to admit - and begin making your way down the stairs. “Billy? Tommy? You guys okay?” Your footsteps echo down the steps, almost unnaturally so. “Is anyone hurt…?” you trail off, hearing frantic whispers. You step over the roots that have made themselves home in the stairwell.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cautiously, you turn the corner, reminding yourself that this is Agnes’ house. You know Agnes. There’s no reason to be afraid.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But do you know her? You feel like you do, but you can’t because you’ve only known her a week or so. A week doesn’t feel like an accurate time frame. It feels both shorter and longer than your time in Westview - and by now, you’re certain you haven’t lived in Westview all that long.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You cling to the wall when you see her, bent over, whispering something in a language you don’t understand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Agnes?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh- hello, dear, how are you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t… where are the boys?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm? Oh, they went outside. Needed some fresh air. Say, how about we go upstairs and I make you some tea?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You hesitate, slowly backing away from her and she begins to move forward. “No, you’ve already made tea. I’ve already- what are you hiding?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not hiding anything, hun. Why don’t we go upstairs?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s down here? What’s all this?” you say, gesturing to the roots and cracked brick walls. “What did you do to Tommy and Billy?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t done anything, my dear.” She smiles at you, and you shiver. This is wrong. All of this is wrong. “Let’s go upstairs.” </span>
  <strike>
    <span>Agnes</span>
  </strike>
  <span> takes you by the shoulder and forces you up the seemingly endless flights of stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <span>She takes you to some near-empty room upstairs and offers you a chair. Her smile is sickly-sweet. “Trust me, darling, this is all for the best.” </span>
  <strike>
    <span>Agnes</span>
  </strike>
  <span> winks, and you feel yourself passing out.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>two more chapters babyyy</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Welcome To Westview - Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Salem, 1693</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You were running, and it hurt. You’d lost track of how long you’d been running for, but it felt like forever. Some people you’d never met were walking through the forest as if they were following you, and they were walking </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There was a woman with them, and if you’d bothered to stop and listen, she was pleading. Pleading for her </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You got to a clearing and decided you shouldn’t stay there. Partially because it would leave you exposed, and partially because there were at least 3 other people there that looked like they were waiting. Waiting for the woman who arrived a minute after you.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her hands get bound behind an elevated stake, a group of women surrounding her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Agatha Harkness. Are you a witch?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I am a witch.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet-” the speaker took off her hood “-you have betrayed your coven.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Your breath caught in your throat. These people were </span>
  <em>
    <span>witches</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> screwed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have not-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You stole knowledge above your age and station. You practised the </span>
  <em>
    <span>darkest</span>
  </em>
  <span> of magic.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know nothing of these crimes, I- I swear it, I-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Enough” - that word alone silenced the figure - “deception.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I did not break your rules. They simply bent to my power.” Even without seeing her, the energy that came from her words was enough to know that she’s smirking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The women surrounding her began to chant, which sent her immediately back into a panicked state.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I- I cannot control it- If only you would </span>
  <em>
    <span>teach</span>
  </em>
  <span> me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>help</span>
  </em>
  <span> me, please.” Her voice was shaking. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mother</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The speaker - her mother, you assumed - began to chant, as if urging on the others. With a resigned look, the woman in the centre glanced around her defeatedly. Their power began to surge through the air, to the point where you swore you could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> it - which was absurd. Because magic didn’t exist. Because </span>
  <em>
    <span>witches</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t exist. Although, you guessed that was irrelevant now, based on the scene unfolding in front of you.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No-!” Her screams pierced through you with uncertain precision, tearing you apart from the inside. The blue light stuck to her like glitter, and you ducked behind the bushes you’d been hiding amongst, covering your ears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You weren’t sure when you’d let go, only that there was a distant ringing in your ears. You stood up, almost certain that the women were gone, and the other - Agatha Harkness, judging by what her mother called her - was presumably dead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You were wrong.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who- what are you doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You froze. How the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> was she still alive? And how was everyone else dead?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I- how are you alive?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A purple mist-like substance began to swirl around her hands, and she repeated, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you doing here</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re- you </span>
  <em>
    <span>died</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I watched them </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill</span>
  </em>
  <span> you,” you said, backing away. Backing into a tree. “You- you should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, obviously your eyes - that shouldn’t even be here - were deceiving you.” The mist around her hands began to course quickly across her palms, which were being raised in an almost-fight-like stance. “Now, I’m going to ask you one more time. What are you doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Your hands were shaking, and you held them up as your last defence. “I- I can’t-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Purple light - no, light wasn’t the right word. It was like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>, spreading across the air - came swirling towards you, and you shut your eyes, bracing for impact.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An impact that didn’t come.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In its place was a green, almost liquid ball of light, suspended in the air in front of you.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What- how did you-?” Agatha was looking at you, wide-eyed. “You’re- you have- </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You looked at your hands in disbelief. “No, I can’t- that’s never happened before.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She stuck her hand out to you, and you took it, hesitantly. You both disappeared.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Agatha’s Cottage, 1695</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sun was setting, and you were about to fall asleep. The sound of Agatha’s voice was lovely, sure, but after how many hours of listening to it, you were admittedly getting a little bored. Or very bored. Either way, you were in desperate need of a break.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You found your mind… wandering. Unfortunately for you, your wandering thoughts seemed entirely focused on the woman in front of you.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“... Okay, your turn.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s your turn,” she said, looking at your expectedly. “Try to make the book levitate.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was less than ideal. Honestly, you hadn’t been paying attention at all to this spell, and instead was focused on the way Agatha’s hair fell across her shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, how do I-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You haven’t been paying attention, have you?” she asked, sighing. It sounded less like a question and more like a statement, regardless of how it was phrased. “Listen, if you’re not going to focus, then I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No- no, I’m listening, I’m just tired is all.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Agatha rolled her eyes and nodded. “Then maybe you should go to bed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You paused, looking at her unnaturally blue eyes, her ruffled hair, her slight smirk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And you kissed her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Somewhere Quiet, 1827</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You sat on the porch, a cup of tea in your hand, looking out across your yard, and then, after that, the forest. Agatha was out in the garden, you assumed tidying up some of the bellflowers that had begun to grow out-of-hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You expected that Agatha would probably want some tea, or some food, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so you stood up and walked to the kitchen, and began to make her a cup of tea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the now-full cup floated behind you, you made your way down the back steps and into the garden. The garden in question was </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span>, with all kinds of flowers and plants used for spells, potions - if you could call them that -, and just to look nice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You stepped over each flower bed carefully, smiling when Agatha came into sight. “Hey, honey. I didn’t know if you wanted anything, so I brought you some tea.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She seemed to flinch upon hearing your voice, shoving whatever was previously in her hands behind her back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, dear,” Agatha said, reaching up to take the cup from its place beside you.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you have there?” you said, craning your neck to try to see what was behind her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Flowers?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It looks like a book, hun.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No- </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that, no-” she smiled awkwardly. “That’s just my, um... </span>
  <em>
    <span>diary</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>London, 1941</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Music is playing from an old record player in the corner of the room. Agatha stood next to a stranger. It was essential that he didn’t know the two of you, because you would have to mind-wipe him immediately afterwards.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will hold your hand until there’s nothing left to hold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I will wish for you until I run out of wishes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And my heart will love yours until the day it stops beating.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a crash from a room higher in the house, but nobody reacted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will love you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There were shouts and the sound of men running down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Always and forever.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gunshots rang out as you handed her the ring. And then the two of you disappeared, leaving the stranger for dead.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>one more chapter to go! hope y'all enjoyed it :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Welcome To Westview, Part II - The Season Finale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>long chapter sorry</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>New York, 2018</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The house was unnaturally quiet. Usually, the rooms would be buzzing with the sound of magic, or a plate shattering against the wall, only to be fixed and shattered again. However, today, the entire place was dead silent.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Agatha was sitting in the living room, staring in disbelief at the computer in her lap.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey- hey, are you okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I did it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You froze, fearing the worst. “Did what?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I found her.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Found </span>
  </em>
  <span>her</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Holy shit- how did you-?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not sure. But she’s here. In the country, at least.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’ve done it. We- we’ve made it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She smiled as you took her in your arms. “Her name is Wanda Maximoff. Her brother died a few years ago, and her parents years before that. It makes for a lovely little backstory, don’t you think?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You nodded, before losing the feeling in your arms. “What the fu-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You woke up in the same seat, but you were alone. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you must’ve because it felt like it had been at least an hour. The sky was a different shade of orange, but you quickly realised that wasn’t all that was different. There weren’t any paintings on the walls, the curtains were blue instead of black, and multiple voices were coming from a few rooms over.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You stood up, walking to the door. “Agatha, honey, do we have company?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As you stepped into the hallway, the voices stopped abruptly. You couldn’t tell if this is because you spoke or because of the door slamming behind you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You continued to walk down the hall, in the direction you thought you could hear people talking. “Is someone here?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was, in fact, someone here. Just not the people you were expecting. “Can I help you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You returned from the Blip, didn’t you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You paused, eyes wide. “I what?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The Blip? Like, five years ago, a bunch of people disappeared? Thanos? Any of this ringing a bell?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You shook your head, looking at these people you’re sure you’d never met. “Am I supposed to know any of you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They look at each other. It looks like a father and a daughter, although you can’t be sure. “We bought this house a few weeks ago. The person you’re looking for already moved out. We can’t help you any more than that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, thanks anyway,” you said with a sigh. How the </span>
  </em>
  <span>fuck</span>
  <em>
    <span> were you going to find her?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You wake up. By the light outside the sky you guess it’s been a few hours since Agnes - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Agatha</span>
  </em>
  <span> - knocked you out. Your head is </span>
  <em>
    <span>killing</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, but that’s not the point. That’s not going to help you now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clenching your fists, you try to summon any form of magic left in you. It’s still there - you can feel it, coursing through your body, forcing its way to your fingertips. You stand, walking to the door. You’re still in Agnes’ house, and it's still emptier than you would’ve hoped, but at least there’s some form of familiarity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You walk outside, your heels clicking against the concrete. You mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>, did Wanda </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to put you in this dressy outfit? Where were you going to go? What would you even be doing that required this? That’s beside the point, you think, clicking your fingers to change into something a little more appropriate for what you’re about to do. You have a feeling that if Agatha had only just restored your memory, it was for a reason.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Actually- before I leave, have you found any of the past owner’s possessions?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The man paused for a second, before nodding. “There was this book on the ground, in the master bedroom. We kept it in case she wanted to get it back. Do you want it?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You nodded.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course, just give me a second.” He disappeared down the hall.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You roll back your shoulders, clenching your fists again, hoping to get some form of power that can help you more than just changing clothes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You sigh and begin to walk down the street when you hear a crash. Red and purple flashes of light emanate from above the town square. You begin to make your way in that direction, fearing the worst.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The closer you get, the more dire the situation becomes. Agatha doesn’t seem to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>losing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, per se. But she’s definitely not winning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You look up at the two women in the sky, a blur of red and purple. Suddenly you’re soaring, up to them, up to her, the feeling of magic pulsing through your veins again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Agatha!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is your first mistake. That word alone throws off her rhythm, drawing her attention to you. “No, you’re not-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gets hit. Hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck- </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” You begin throwing liquid-like light. The blue-green magic you’ve felt building up after week(s?) of you being under her - Wanda’s - control, finally released. You don’t bother aiming, only continuing to target Wanda and Wanda alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she’s stronger than you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, she is. The fabled Scarlet Witch. The myth. You hadn't even thought you’d live to see her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next thing you feel is cold. A searing, cold pain that starts at your centre and spreads its way out, down your arms and across your fingertips. And you’re being propelled backwards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You land on the ground, pain shooting up your spine. A few cars surround you, and you can sense that their intentions are less than desirable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A megaphone shrieks and you wince as you stand up, brushing yourself off. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Who are you?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You look up at the car you assume contains the speaker, and you find yourself asking “Are you here to kill Wanda?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not that you don’t want to hurt Wanda. She’s about to kill your wife, for fuck’s sake. If anything, you’ll be the one to kill her yourself. But you can’t seem to allow these people to get to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So maybe it’s instinct, the desire to not let the Scarlet Witch get harmed, that causes you to raise your hands and force the cars backwards with the remnants of your once-great magic. Perhaps it’s instinct when as they surround you, you let yourself completely give in to your power, letting it consume you as the cars and guns and men are flung backwards. And possibly it’s instinct to then immediately turn around and find your way back to the two women engaged in battle behind you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys - the twins, Tommy and Billy, Wanda’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>sons</span>
  </em>
  <span> - are fighting too. Fighting against the people you missed. Fighting the fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>military</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Maybe you should’ve given them more credit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You continue to make your way over to Agatha and Wanda, only to be stopped. You’re not sure why, but you can’t go any higher, any further to them. Like your magic is dying out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>impossible</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you think, looking down at the fading blue mist around your hands, because nobody is stopping you from moving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You look around, at Wanda, at the sky, and make the connection. This, like everything else in this godforsaken town, was Wanda’s doing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This means that Agatha will be completely fucked in a few seconds if she doesn’t figure out what’s going on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You yell her name, but she’s occupied. Clearly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“There you go. Good luck getting it open, though. Couldn’t for the life of me figure it out.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You stared at the book in your hands. It looked so familiar, but you couldn’t quite figure out where you’d seen it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was only when you opened it that you realised it was supposedly Agatha’s “diary”. There was a page in the middle that was bookmarked, so you flipped through to that page immediately. It was the beginning of a chapter titled “The Scarlet Witch”.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your eyes widened as you realised where she was.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You can feel yourself falling to the ground, but your mind is elsewhere. It’s focused on the women above you, it’s focused on Agatha. On your </span>
  <em>
    <span>wife</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As you slowly sink to the ground, your immediate thought is to run over to them, yell at the top of your lungs for Wanda to </span>
  <em>
    <span>get away, leave her alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But you can’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because it seems that they’re on their way over to you already.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You stand up, brushing yourself off, and begin to run towards the town square. That seems to be the main place of important events in Westview.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Upon seeing Agatha and Wanda seemingly unharmed, you smile in relief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your smile drops when you call Agatha’s name and she only looks at you with an empty smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Westview. All of this, weeks of searching, just to lead you to a town in the middle of fucking nowhere.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Typical Agatha, you supposed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As you approached the town, something seemed… off. It was too quiet, there was nobody outside, it was almost as if the town didn’t exist. The results on Google certainly thought so.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You squared your shoulders and continued to walk towards Westview.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As you entered the town, your ears began to ring, your vision blurring.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And you heard a tired voice in the back of your head sigh and say “Welcome to Westview.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wanda, what’s going on? Why isn’t she talking?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Scarlet Witch only smiles. “She’s better now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And your stomach drops.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>it's over! i wanted to leave the ending more open so that y'all can decide what happens next, but if you want me to write a sequel i'd be down. thanks to everyone who's commented!</p><p>(also fun fact this is the first fic i've ever finished so that's fun)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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